


panic room

by rainytears



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Dream is an asshole, DreamSMP - Freeform, Ew, Gen, How Do I Tag, No Ship, Not Beta Read, Panic, Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), author is a ranboo apologist, clip rewrite, mcyt - Freeform, ranboo cryinf, ranboo did nothing wrong, very sad, why does the tubbo tag have his full name, with a slightly alternate ending but the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainytears/pseuds/rainytears
Summary: dream pays ranboo a visit(the clip where dream comes into ranboo's panic room except fanfic form cuz pog)
Kudos: 29





	panic room

**Author's Note:**

> UM ok ok cw for;;  
> rlly bad panic  
> referenced scratching  
> lotz of crying  
> i use wounds as a metaphor
> 
> i never plan namez for my ficz lmao it'z juzt called "stupid lil bitch" in my notez

“how do you choose people if everyone is against you..?” ranboo asked aloud, to nobody but himself. the words didn’t have the chance to sink in, as he deflected them before they could.  
“no- no-one’s against you.. no- everyone’s-”, he inhaled shakily as he stammered, his thoughts contradicting and swirling into a dark scribble of ink in his mind, “no, ev- no-one’s. no- everyone’s… no-one is- no, everyone is- no, no.. they don’t u- they do understan-. they don’t understand.. do they understand..?”

ranboo stared towards his feet, trying to put his wildly combatting mind to rest - if only temporarily. he knew there was never going to be a permanent solution. that was why he made this room, an impermanent resolution for anytime it went this far.  
he’d managed to become distracted by his own thoughts, before his attention was grasped by a familiar voice. one he didn’t exactly expect (nor endorse) to appear in his panic room.

“hello.” dream spoke. ranboo turned around, seeing him stood in the opposite corner, holding an overwhelming air of dominance surrounding him. one that said ‘no matter how much you protest, i’m not going to leave. don’t even try.’

“oh.” was all he could manage to reply, “so you’ve come-.. come here to my..” he sighed sharply. “my panic room, now.” 

“i have.” dream said. ranboo scanned the man further - he was in his usual attire. a green hoodie, a mask covering his facial features. oh gosh, the mask. it was probably the worst thing about him. no matter what he did, no matter what he said, it was always still, smiling. it felt almost manipulative in a way nobody would ever be able to grasp.  
and of course, he wielded his axe, hanging down just above his ankles. he doubted dream planned to use it, but ranboo still felt as though if he stepped too close his head would be cleanly removed before he could process the situation.  
would anybody notice his disappearance, if the man in front of him decided to kill him today? almost nobody knew about this room. they all opposed him, anyway, after his speech from earlier. so even if they did (or didn’t) find his corpse, would they be bothered?

ranboo snapped himself out of that trail of thoughts. there was something he absolutely needed to know. he took a hasty breath.  
“how did you do it..? how did you find my book? ho-how di- how did you know?”  
the sound of the river sloshed through his ears as he waited for a response. those five moments where he stared at dream- no, at dream’s mask, wordlessly begging for a reason, any trace of logic, they felt like an eternity. the dark obsidian walls contrasting the man opposing him, the repetitive noises of the river, the signs hastily shoved onto the walls, they were all that existed in that moment.

“ah, well..” dream’s voice was enough to bring ranboo at least partially back to reality - whatever that meant in the current situation. “it was in your chest.” he shrugged, brushing off the issue. the words were like a sudden slit to ranboo’s skin. he never put it in his chest. he didn’t remember doing that. he had the book on him for as long as he knew, even if he couldn’t remember much. so he would have known if he put it there, right? why would he ever even do that in the first place. he wasn’t that stupid. he kept everything in there. and if somebody were to read that everything, he’d lose most of the people that meant something to him.

“i never put it- i never put it in my-...” he protested against the other’s words, he didn’t believe him. he had to be lying. he had to be manipulating him again. that was what he was good at. otherwise why was one of his friends exiled? why was one of his friends currently planning to blow up l’manburg? it made no sense until you brought dream into the picture. it never would have happened without dream.  
his eyes were drawn towards one of his signs. it had the words ‘DREAM IS THE REASON’ scrawled into it, the handwriting panicked and rushed, barely intelligible. the man in question glanced towards it as well, before looking back to ranboo, waiting for him to finish his response.

“but-...” he sighed, dropping the topic. that wasn’t his last question, he’d be a fool for it to be.  
“why? why now? why suddenly- why suddenly now, when you could have just done this earlier. why didn’t you blow it up immediately?” his mind raced, his thoughts unable to filter his words before he spoke them. his entire body trembled, bringing aches to his back and knees.  
“why- why now.. why choose.. wh-why give them a delay..? why give them hope?” without thinking, he was pacing back and forth, subconsciously remaining in ‘his corner’ of the room.

“ehh, it’s fun.” dream shrugged dismissively. his white mask, slightly tainted from halfhearted cleaning of blood stains, was still looking through him, mocking him endlessly. there was a crack through the porcelain that obstructed the mouth and eye, and it disturbed ranboo almost as much as the mask itself. he felt as though it was a break in dream’s façade, his bitter(sweet) tone, his eternally taunting aura. 

“that’s what it’s always been, huh.” ranboo laughed sickly, every last of his words laced with rancorous venom. he felt sick. his head spun as his thoughts continued to contradict one another, his mind a mess of shattered glass and frantic scribbles of ink.

“it’s just a game.” dream affirmed, slumped backwards slightly against the corner with posture too carefree for this situation. the tip of his axe rested on his ground, rising and falling to the same rhythm as his chest.

“yeah.” ranboo’s eyes drifted away from the man. they scanned anywhere else in the room, unable to look at him. the pattern of the obsidian, the numerous signs he had placed, the disc player in the middle of the floor - and the disc in his pocket. he shifted himself repeatedly, the mere thought of dream enough to send his mind into flames again. he couldn’t remove the engrained image of his mask, small tufts of hair escaping their way over it, seeming so casual. “just.. fun for you to watch everyone.. just watch everyone suffer a little bit.”

he wondered now, how long it would be until dream could successfully manipulate the others, not just technoblade. even if only a few hours prior he and the cabinet had been planning dream’s demise, techno had been opposing him as well. but the man knew how to play with people. he knew what buttons to press to manipulate them, to get them to do his bidding. but ranboo wouldn’t let him do the same to him. he wasn’t sure why he was here, but he wouldn’t let dream use him.

“it’s a lot of fun.” dream replied, and ranboo could almost hear the sickly sweet smile from behind his mask.

he laughed in response, a short burst. he didn’t have the energy to do anything big. he just hoped that the man would go away, leave him to sulk and panic and frantically ponder upon his (ex) friends’ understanding of his point.  
“yeah, i bet.”

“did i do the wrong thing, dream.?” ranboo stilled, finally looking back up to the addressed person for a reply. he wasn’t sure why he asked that. he wasn’t thinking- no, he was thinking too much, and his head was cloudy, and..-

“hmm, you did.” he shrugged, adjusting his mask slightly. it was like he couldn’t care less about ranboo, or his questions. but if not ranboo, what could he be here for? there was nothing else here. nothing else but himself and his signs ever really entered the panic room.

“i was just trying to choose the people..” ranboo tried to explain himself. he wasn’t sure why he was explaining himself, to dream of all people, he just felt like he had to. if anything, he had to get it straight with his mind. then he would finally have a chance of pacifying his feverish internal monologue - if he could even call it a monologue at this point. although it was only him in his mind, it felt like so many people shouting and arguing over one another, trying to assert their points.  
“everyone just keeps choosing sides- and it doesn’t work- i-it never works.”

“well, you unintentionally chose a side by not choosing a side.” dream replied. nonsense, ranboo thought, that had to be bullshit. how could he choose a side when he explicitly did not? sure, he did a lot of things without realising, like turn all of his friends against him, and apparently place that book in his chest, but he would never - not even accidentally - choose a side. 

“what do you mean..” his voice audibly trembled, gradually worsening with every phrase he spoke. there was a trace of pitiful amusement in his tone. he wasn’t sure how much of this he could take. how much more of dreams shit, how much more of standing in the almost completely blank room, his only company being the one person he wished not to see and the river outside. he exhaled weakly, waiting for the other to reply.

dream once again brought up the thing he had brought up at the community house. “well, the side of the traitor.”  
he could feel himself shrink down, phsyically and mentally. he wanted nothing more than to curl down and sob, or to get out of there and run. run far from l’manburg, far from anything. somewhere that dream couldn’t find him. he never meant to be a traitor. but somewhere, deep down, he knew he feared he had; dream knew that too. he was playing at that fear. he didn’t want anything from ranboo, he didn’t want him to do his bidding, it was just as he said. he got joy out of other people’s pain. 

ranboo was too weak, too tired and unstable to try to reject the man, try to leave, so he gave in. whatever choice he made wouldn’t affect anybody but himself in the long (and short) run. even if his old friends no longer believed in him, that was more the reason to do it. they wouldn’t care.  
“no i didn’t- i didn’t betray anyone..”

“well, you betrayed everyone.” 

“no.. i- i- i’m just- i- i- i tried to help everyone, and that’s what i did.! i was able to help l’manburg, i was able to help techno and tommy..” ranboo pleaded innocence, not bothering with whether dream would care or not. he helped everyone, and he knew it. his hands instinctively pulled up to wipe away any stray tears, and he bowed down his head as he did so, his posture almost shameful.

“hm, well. you also, hurt techno, hurt tommy, hurt tubbo.”  
the words were like another cut on his skin, directly on top of the last, hissing and burning. he.. hurt people? no, no, no. no he didn’t. right? yes, he did- but he didn’t! he just chose people! but.. by doing that, did he cause more people to get hurt? no, that isn’t possible. choosing sides causes more pain in the long run. 

“but-.. but- but- but, it must outweigh, right? it must- it must outweigh the other sides, ri-right? the go- the good must outweigh the bad..!” ranboo once again shrunk down. he had to prove himself. he didn’t hurt anyone, right? he had to prove that he didn’t hurt anybody, even if only to himself. even if this was just what dream wanted. he needed to know, more than anything, that he didn’t cause any more harm to his friends than already done.

“hmm, it depends on your perspective, i guess.” dream responded perfunctorily, looking up to the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the room.

“i- i don’t know what else i could’ve done..” ranboo pressed, “i.. i got roped into this from the very beginning.. i immediately got roped into burning down george’s house- and you know- you know, that i don’t do well with peer pressure.” he self-pitifully smiled, no longer bothering to wipe away the salty tears streaming down his cheeks. dream glanced towards him, and then back to the ceiling.  
“but.. it just keeps happening.. and i don’t know so- so i have this- web- that i’ve made for myself.”

“did you help tommy destroy the community house?” was all dream commented. the words brought a course of panic through ranboo, flushing through his mind to his stomach. he gripped his fists tightly, about to deny it, but the other continued speaking before he could.  
“you must’ve, right? you must’ve! you just don’t remember!” their words mixed together, ranboo only able to form the word ‘no’ over and over, indirectly begging for dream to stop speaking.  
“you just don’t remember, you probably did.”

ranboo felt his knees weaken, his arms trembling and his head spinning frantically. he didn’t remember..? he.. couldn’t remember much. did he actually do it? did he do it? did he help tommy blow up the community house? why? why couldn’t he remember?  
“i-.. don’t remember.. wh-..”

“you’ve done a lot of bad things.”

“li-like what? what else did i do..” he begged for an answer, no longer able to process the fact that this was dream he was talking to. dream, the person most capable of manipulating and using every single person in the server. dream, who countless people still supported after he wronged them.

“well: you betrayed your friends, you burnt down george’s house, you blew up the community house.” he listed, holding up and inspecting his axe calmly. greatly contrasting ranboo, who was barely stood up, pacing frantically and wrapping his arms around his torso. every last of dream’s words felt like fresh wounds, kitchen knives carving into his skin.

“i- didn’t- i didn’t mean to do any of that- i- i wouldn’t do that.. no, i wouldn’t do that! no, that’s.. that couldn’t be me..”

a few moments of deafening silence rang out once again, ranboo staring down at his hands, and dream still laying back against the wall - as he finally began to speak.

“hm, would you remember if it was?”

would he?  
“..no.”

“would you have written it down in your book?”

that’s not how the book works.  
“..no, i wouldn’t- i wouldn’t write down the stuff th- i on- i don’t write stuff down in the book that i do, i just write down who my friends are- and i don’t do it if it is extremely bad.”

there was another gap of painful silence. did he do that? was he a bad person? did he do the wrong thing? he didn’t remember doing the wrong thing- he thought he was doing the right thing- he swore he was, he was just trying to choose the people. he knew choosing sides only brought more harm so he chose the people, but did he hurt more people by doing that? he didn’t know- he didn’t know. he didn’t know and he wanted to know but he couldn’t fucking remember.  
his nails tore at his cheeks, frantically trying to break the skin as if it would grant him some sort of escape, as if if he scratched hard enough he would reveal his true self. but who was his true self? who was he anymore? without his people - his friends - he was nothing, right? there was nobody to support. there was nowhere to go. he had no purpose if he couldn’t support anybody. his face burned harshly, alarm bells screaming at him to stop it, oh god, please stop it, but he couldn’t hear them over his own mind.

and dream, of course.

dream was always in the picture.

“well, you have bad memory, right?” he asked what he already knew, only wanting to play ranboo further, get joy out of every moment of his suffering.

“yeah.” was all he could say without breaking down any more, without his mind shutting down.

“well, that’s not good.”

ranboo laughed miserably, as if it took every ounce of his strength to do so. “you’re telling me.” he forced himself to inhale, then exhale. it was the most he could do. “i barely remember anything. the memory book was the one thing that made sure i remembered who my friends were. but- if i can’t rely on the memory book, then what can i rely on..?”

dream scoffed, and ranboo began to muster up the strength to face him. 

“i don’t know. not yourself; i’m not even real.”

he looked up, ready to look at dream, ready to fight for himself. he didn’t want to just entertain him anymore. 

but as he did, he was met with an empty room. 

the water outside lay uninterrupted. he couldn’t have swam away.

“ah… he’s not real.. he wasn’t real..” he sought some comfort in those words, hoping to convince himself that everything ‘dream’ said was false, but it was in vain. the words only brought the unexplainable waves of panic faster and rougher through his body.  
“he wasn’t real.” he affirmed. “that entire time.”

“i blew up the community house.. i helped everything..” he thought aloud, unable to keep the words in his head. “no- no! you couldn’t have done that! there’s no way you could have done that! no..! you wouldn’t do that..! i know you wou- no…”

he lost his final bit of strength as he slumped to the ground, knees drawn to his chest, head resting between them. his sobs grew louder, but he could barely hear them over his racing thoughts. it wasn’t like anyone would hear him. it wasn’t like anyone would care.

ranboo was a bad person, and that was the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHH i'm screaming after writing that shit it took me 3 hrz straight one night then about an hour or two the next night


End file.
